A... strange? Harry Potter story
by Alphonse
Summary: This is something I typed up in ten mintues, so it's not going to be the next bestseller, but please read and review, no flames preferred, but still accepted. 13/07/02 - Wow, I've kinda changed this from humor to something else. I'll try to keep on track!
1. what now?

Right! I was very bored when I wrote this, and it took all of ten minutes, so it isn't very good, but I'll post it anyway, for the sake of posting something.  
  
Disclaimer: I own the plot and the monster (and the café, address 71 Phantasm Grove, Primordial Soup), but unfortunately, Harry Potter or the Spider from James and the Giant Peach.  
  
When reviewing, please no flaming. I burn easily.  
  
  
  
The beast came upon Harry, it's breath smelling like those little candy cinnamon hearts that you can get at Valentines. The hair was sparse and wiry, moving on its own accord, and protruded from the animal in strange places. The teeth on the thing were yellow, with diamonds embedded in each and every one, and its skin was green. As the face bore down on him, Harry remembered he had the Britney Spears CD in his discman that Ron had been so obsessed with in his pocket. He whipped it out, threw the earpiece into the great waxy ring that was this creature's ear, and turned it on. The beast threw up his head with a horrendous scream, then sank to the floor, writhing with pain. Harry knew it would work.  
  
He smiled, and ran back from the thing, and straight into a tree. Still dizzy, he turned. The beast was back on his feet, and angry as hell. Harry was no fool, and ran as fast as he could. He found a sidewalk and followed it into a city. He didn't look behind him, and darted into a café. Around him sat the spider from James and the Giant Peach, and many mod artists. They all stared at him as they sipped at their mochaccinos, and he stared back. This staring went on forever. The beast came crashing through the doorway, ripping the wall out. The artists' heads all turned in unison to it, then back to Harry, and smiled. He tore through the kitchen in the back to the alley. He ran past many buildings, then into a new one. Except it wasn't a new one. It was the same café as before, with all the smiling artists. He ran back out the door and down the street. He looked back, and briefly saw the thing looking in the second café before tripping over a rock and falling.  
  
He was falling for a long time, through all sorts of colours and shapes drifting past as though in slow motion. He watched as they passed, feeling like death was sucking him down to the depths of insanity. From out of a patch of swirling metallic blue popped the monster, coming up to him walking at a fast pace, confusing compared to the mass of colours. He came above Harry and smiled. He pulled from out behind him a little pink and violet dress on a hanger and waved it in his face. Harry screamed.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
And woke up.  
  
A/N: how was it? Please review! 


	2. Summer

Goddamn it, I hate disclaimers. I own nothing but the plot, and the beast in the first chapter. Got it? Good. This is rated PG for a subject that many people seem to have problems with. If you are one of these mentioned people, please don't flame. This is my work, I can write what I want to, and voice my opinions through characters if I choose to. Thank you.  
  
  
  
His pulse shot up, and he started to pant. That was by far the strangest dream he had ever had. He furrowed his brow in thought. All the other dreams he had had were dreamt because of a desire or danger, or just because he had been thinking about it that day. An example of the latter was when he had been thinking all day about why ice cream was called ice cream when it wasn't ice, but very cold hard cream (flavoured, of course). So what was the point of this dream? Did he want cinnamon hearts? No, if the creature's breath smelled like it, he surely did not want it. Did he have to shave? Arrrg, he thought, what is it? He thought, and thought, and then thought some more (think, think, think…), but couldn't come up with anything, so he went back to sleep.  
  
He got up to the sound of Ron yelling up the stairs at Ginny to give him back his lavender scented bubble bath. He sat up and put his glasses on bringing the world back into focus. He was surprised that the ghoul hadn't woken him up, but didn't have time to ponder it. Harry was staying at the Weasleys' for the summer, as the Dursleys wouldn't let him in the house. It wasn't as if he cared. He had all of his things with him, and would rather eat one of Dudley's pairs of underwear than stay there for the summer. He got his clothes, had a quick shower ("Ginny, get out!" "Oh! Sorry Harry!"), and went downstairs for breakfast.  
  
Bill was sitting at the table reading the paper, while Molly was bustling about in the kitchen fixing up breakfast. It was early, though Harry felt he had slept in, it being eight thirty. He woke early for someone sixteen, and it was more surprising that Ron was up. Ron usually slept till ten at least. Where was he? Harry glanced at the clock. Ron's hand was at work. Work? What the hell was that about? He was the last person Harry thought would voluntarily go to work. Oh well, thought Harry, I'll just…read. He went back to Charlie's old room where he was bunking. Charlie had been in Romania so long, they had cleared his stuff to the attic and let the room out. Percy was in Germany at a meeting with the paper (he was promoted, don't you know), and wouldn't be back for quite a while to everyone's relief. Harry inhaled the bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns that Molly placed in front of him, thanked her, and went to sit outside.  
  
Ron came outside to the backyard to find Harry sitting on the swing, reading a book.  
  
"What's that? 'A Series of Unfortunate Events?'"  
  
"It's a series about the unfortunate events these three kids go through. It sounds boring, but it's good. Want to read one?" Harry explained.  
  
" Mmmmm, no. I would rather sit and do nothing."  
  
Harry thought he was kidding, but Ron promptly sat and stared into space. Well, at least he isn't being loud. Harry went back to reading his book. Klaus's glasses had just broken when Harry felt a hand on his leg. His upper leg, very close to an area he'd rather keep to himself.  
  
"Ron! I already told you! Please, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'm not gay! I'm fine with you being gay, by all means I encourage it, but please, PLEASE, do not hit on me. I'm your friend," Harry said.  
  
Ron hung his head, and mumbled an okay. Harry would have tried to explain further, but he had already told Ron off several times this summer, so he figured he wasn't going to get across. They heard a shout from the house calling them for lunch.  
  
They scarfed down their sandwiches and drank their ice tea, and went back outside to talk.  
  
"Hermione's comin' in two days, you know," Ron said.  
  
" I know," Harry replied. He was looking forward to it. He had spent so much time with Ron he was welcome to other company.  
  
"You don't sound too excited."  
  
" I am, but it's too hot to make a big fuss about it."  
  
It was hot, hotter than usual for July in England. All the blossoms had opened on the trees, and there was a heavenly scent on the air. The sun was at its peak, and even though they sat in the shade, beads of sweat still cascaded from their brows. Soon both their shirts were drenched with sweat. They had sat in silence for what seemed days, but was only minutes. Harry stood up and dashed inside for some lemonade. He brought it out, and they spent the rest of the day outside on the lawn.  
  
1 Please r/r 


	3. More summer

This is the third chapter to this story, and I'm thinking that maybe a few flames would encourage me to do something with it. Should I make it ridiculous, or fluffy * cough * No* cough * ? Anyway, this is as I said the third chapter, and it's not too good. Crap! Goddamned disclaimer. Disclaimer: I own plot and monster. Nothin else. Please flame if you feel like it!  
  
  
  
It had been two days since the day of nothing, and Hermione arrived as expected. They went to London to pick her up from the train station early in the morning. "Harry! Ron!" She ran up to the two from the train and caught them in a choking hug. "Did you miss me?" " More than you could imagine," Harry whispered into her ear. She heard him, but took no notice, and continued to chok - err, hug. They had a little talk, then took the tube to Heathrow. They caught a cab and went to . wherever Ron lives. They unpacked her things, and she stayed with Ginny in her room.  
  
It was still fairly early, so they decided to have brunch. They all whipped up some food, and ate. Both Harry and Ron noticed that Hermione had filled out a bit. Quite a bit. She was taller, and was more shapely. Her hips were wider than before, her legs long, and her chest was er, protruding farther than before. Her hair was cut shorter, about shoulder length, and still bouncy and curly, still that cinnamon brown that people insist on sticking in their stories. She was altogether gorgeous. Except to Ron. To Ron, she was just an indication that they weren't little kids anymore, and that they only had a while longer together.  
  
Hermione stared at Ron while he wasn't looking. God, he looks good. His shoulders had broadened, and his hair was curly, and was a little longer than usual, about long enough to curl about his face. His skin was a bronzy tone and his arms muscular. She couldn't help but gaze stupidly. She had always been a sucker for redheads.  
  
  
  
They finished their brunch, and went and sat out on the swings in the backyard under the shade of an oak tree. They started to talk, about life, love, and seahorses ( "God, Ron, leave it alone! The males carry the babies!"), all thinking that they only had a year left before they wouldn't see each other often enough to know that the other had a bit of dirt on their nose. " Do you think we'll stay in touch after Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "I hope so," said Harry, "Why?" "I dunno." "Hmmm. you usually don't ask questions for no reason," Ron said. "It's just that I live in the Muggle world. I don't live in Hogsmeade where I can use my magic for everything, I live in London. I live with Muggles, around Muggles twenty-four seven. They wouldn't understand even if I were allowed to show them, and it's frustrating. While I'm at Hogwarts I can do what I please, within boundaries, and when I need help, I always have others there to assist. When I'm at home, I can't do anything. Harry's okay, because his family hates him, realistically, and Ron, you come from a wizarding family. You guys got it easy," she huffed, almost in a pout. "Well, you can always come here you know," Ron said," The train doesn't take that long." Hermione laughed, and lay back on the grass. "What? What's so funny about my logic and genius thought?" Ron said with a grin. She turned her head to look up at him on the swing with a smirk. "What kind of wizard takes the train when they can just apparate?"  
  
  
  
They had done nothing but sit around for the past few days, with the occasional visit from Fred and George, or Ginny. Fred and George had graduated the year before, and, as is their style, left with flair. They had rigged every bathroom in the school with fireworks and crackers and all sorts of exploding things. Only they had strengthened them. When the graduating year students were at the end of their ceremony, and all the students threw their hats into the air, they set off every explosive in the school. The whole school shook, and soon every student was wading through half a foot of water. They thought it was a riot, but it was obvious that half the teachers thought they should be locked up for years. Only Hagrid and Dumbledore had thought it amusing. Since their graduation, they had become suppliers for Zonkos and had earned a great sum of money. They still lived in the Weasley house, but were hardly ever there.  
  
Ginny had certainly come out of her shell since her third year. She had become as popular as anyone can be without it going to their heads, and had many friends. She no longer stuttered like a fool when she was talking to Harry. In fact, she had become an extremely smooth talker, and Harry found himself mesmerized by her often. She didn't have a boyfriend, but Harry knew that half of the school's male populace had their eyes on her. It was disturbing; some of the lesser-known teachers had been eyeing her as well.  
  
But no matter what the differences were, they all got along well together, so they spent much of their time sitting around and talking. Often their discussions were carefree and happy, but sometimes the were about things normally no one, unless exposed to extreme danger and such things no one should be exposed to, would talk about. They were all concerned about Voldemort, especially George for some reason. But all the same, they enjoyed themselves. Ron and Hermione seemed to have gotten along better now that she had found out that he was gay. They talked about all sorts of things they never would have talked about if the circumstances were different. Harry often felt like the odd man out because Hermione and Ron would talk about who they thought were attractive, and Harry wasn't too interested in this. But he listened in nonetheless. You never know, you might just learn something.  
  
  
  
Hermione had been at the Weasley house for a week and had already had a wonderful time. She had a great girlfriend (Ginny), and her friends could finally relate to her. Ron was gay and thought many of the same things she did, and Harry was just a nice, no longer pompous guy. Voldemort hadn't appeared for two years, despite his return to reality in their fourth year, so Harry's ego had deflated to the right level when people were no longer fussing and fawning over him. She was becoming more and more concerned about Voldemort coming returning and Harry not being prepared. But nonetheless, she put on a fake look of relaxation. He had improved in looks too; his hair was long and curved around his face. He had gotten it cut before he had gone to the Weasley's and it had already grown about an inch. He was muscular and tall, and he looked like the classic strong but silent kind of person. Except for the silent part. He had yapped on and on, talking about Quidditch and nonsense like it since she had arrived. She could see why he had said what he did at the train station though. Ron talked incessantly about this Martha Stewart person on television. Why did she have her hair like that? Wouldn't it be better if she used confectioner's sugar than if she used regular sugar? Oh well, she thought, at least they're sane. mostly.  
  
  
  
So? What'd you think? Please review!! Everyone who doesn't do me this courtesy, do me this courtesy - don't read any of my other stories; We ask that you please rewind the video before you return it, thank you. 


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